Shadows
by Halle
Summary: Merope is desperate and she gets one first and last look at her son before she dies... a tale about how Tom Riddle Snr. ended his days and how Tom Riddle jnr just began his.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Now I do not have a beta reader as he has a lot of work to do recently so please do not fame me for my grammar or spelling unless it is really bad. I do not own anything ect. Enjoy! Please read and review. This is about Merope and Tom Riddle's early days… and his fathers return to Hangleton.

Shadows

In floods of tears Merope fled from the London apartment, her heart could not take it any more and she knew no other way to end it than this. She hastened towards the Leaky Cauldron, shoving past unsuspecting muggles. Merope pushed open the door hastily to the pub and inside she found the exact person she was searching for.

The man was wearing a long deep blood red robe, his silver hair flowing and receding drastically over his head as it fell to just above his shoulders. Merope hurried forward and quickly occupied the seat opposite him.

'Baron, thank you for meeting with me,' she stammered, clutching her stomach gently as she winced in pain.

'This had better be good Merope, your father and I tend best not to agree on most things but I owe him a favour so what is it?'

'I need something,' Merope said quickly

'What is it you need, bare in mind my activities are already being investigated-'

'Please Baron, my child; please I need the final payment,'

'Payment, 'Baron said curiously 'what do you mean 'payment''

'Yes, you and my father came to an arrangement sometime ago over my particular duties-'

'My child, if you think just like that I can afford to hand out money to any random shit of a squib you are much mistaken,' Baron guffawed, taking a swig of his butterbeer heartily 'that arrangement was over a long time ago-'

'Baron, I have nowhere to go,' Merope begged 'my child, my husband he will leave me when he finds out,'

'Merope, what are you talking about?' Baron said suspiciously

'My husband, he is a muggle-'

'HE'S A WHAT,' Baron screeched, resuming a calm composure he added 'you can't be serious,'

'Please Baron, I need the money, I will do anything I need to find a place for Tom,' she begged

'Tom?' he replied 'whose Tom,'

'My unborn baby,' Merope muttered, she added slightly louder 'I can't go back to Hangleton, my father-'

'Your father is in Azkaban, Merope,' Baron explained solemnly 'idiot; he let himself get put in there,'

'My necklace, surely this necklace is worth something,' Merope said quickly 'take it,'

'Merope I cannot touch it,' Baron said frightened 'it does danger to a wizard not of the Slytherin line,'

Merope was becoming angry and finding her voice she said

'You of all people should know that is just an old wives tale!'

'Merope, calm down, please' Baron urged, becoming very aware that people were looking at him and this bizarre witch of a girl. 'I know a place, where-'

'Baron, my father he saved your life-'

'Yes well I would rather not remember that if you please Merope and don't think guilt tripping me will have any better effect at getting what you want,' Baron explained sharply. Merope doubled over; clutching her stomach she felt a lump rising in her throat.

'Merope, here,' and Baron threw across the table a small black book full of torn parchment pages and ink blotting. Merope took it slowly; wincing in pain she opened it carefully with her left hand and flicked through the pages.

'What will I use this for?'

'My dear Merope, in due course will that little black book be the most precious item your son will ever hold. I'm not the most astute wizard but I feel you about to give birth, your waters broke about 15 seconds ago,'

After that Merope passed out.

Merope awoke feverishly to find herself in grey surroundings, there weer a pair of drab grey curtains hanging over a muggy looking window. Next to the bed where Merope lay was a small desk area and two women were looking down at her.

'She won't last the night,' one of them said

'The important thing is we saved the boy,' the other said

Merope slowly turned on her side, with what little strength she had left and her eyes fell upon a bundle of blue and white and lifting her hand to the cot she pulled back the small folds of blanket and glanced down at her son for the first and last time, tears filled her eyes and then she was gone.


	2. A stranger at Vauxhall Road

AN: Don't own anything thanks for any reviews I get in advance if I get any that is. My grammar and spelling really need working on but my beta reader Martin is very busy at the moment. Here it is. In this chapter we learn about Tom and his family and someone pays a visit to the orphanage.

Rain poured down heavily that evening on February 6th 1926 in the heart of East London and on Vauxhall Road a man approached a large square building that had obviously seen better days judging by its innate shabbiness. The man strode up the sweeping steps and knocked heavily on the door which was soon opened by a small round plump woman with a squeaky voice. She held the door slightly ajar, enough so she could see and hear the speaker without allowing him to come in or see inside the building.

'I am aware that tonight you admitted a young pregnant woman,'

The man was tall and thin with wispy auburn hair; his blue eyes sparkled despite the fact that the moon was at bay hidden behind some clouds. The young receptionist at the Vauxhall Road orphanage nodded but refused to let the stranger in.

'What's it to you, what's your business here Sir,' she said shrewdly, barely opening the door ajar.

'I am merely concerned for the young girl's welfare,'

'Troubled times these though Sir,' she replied squeakily 'don't know who could be listening or walking up your garden path, that Mr Chamberlain he said-'

'I am aware Madam, these are indeed times of great turmoil among our European sisters but please, let me see the child,' the stranger urged, now taking of his top hat and pleading.

'Child, How'd you know she were pregnant?' the secretary said curiously 'are you the fella who dropped her off here and then disappeared when he bombs struck?'

'I can assure you, that I knew less of Mrs Riddle tonight than I have any prior knowledge of her whereabouts before this evening,' the stranger explained 'at least let me in madam, I need a good cup of tea,'

The woman eyed him, looking him up and down she decided he did not look threatening nor dangerous but once the stranger was inside she instantly informed her boss and owner of the orphanage, Mrs Cole.

The stranger stood in the vast hallway admiring the bareness and shabbiness of the place, thinking to himself that this was no fit place to bring up a boy wizard. But never the less it was a roof over his head and most likely better than any real type of life his mother caudle given him, he was sure of that much.

Mrs Cole came bustling out of her office, looking rather disgruntled at having been disturbed from whatever it was she had been doing, and by all accounts she looked like she had been crying.

'My name is Albus Dumbledore; I believe you have received a new occupant as early as tonight? A young girl died in childbirth here is that not correct?'

Mrs Cole looked stunned and looked at the other young woman, Cecilia who had opened the door to Dumbledore.

'How did you know that?'

'I assure you my only interest in Mrs Riddle was entirely professional, I am concerned for her, I knew she was carrying the baby and there is far too much to explain to make any sense of it,' Dumbledore explained, fiddling with his hat nervously almost.

'Come in to my office Mr Bumblmore,'

'Dumbledore,' the young wizard corrected her

'These posh up town lads with fancy names, well follow me and we will discuss young Tom Riddle,'

Miles away from east end London in the village of Little Hangleton Tom Riddle senior trudged through the village gaily but slightly confused all the same, he was glad to be home again He wandered past the village pub, the butcher and the baker. He passed some girls further along the high street and thought them most peculiar as they pointed and whispered at him.

'Mind your own business,' Tom said angrily, annoyed at the unwanted attention from youths who could hardly call themselves anything above working class.

'I'll see you get reported to the King,'

The girls then began to laugh, but Tom chose to ignore them and get home instead as he had a lot of explaining to do where his father was concerned. Tom remembered the days when he had commanded respect in this village, and obviously some of it had worn away since he had been gone. He couldn't remember exactly how long he had been gone.

As he approached the house he saw Frank the gardener tending to his mothers precious roses at the forefront of the long beautifully tendered lawns sweeping there way down the hill away fro the house.

Frank had to blink several times, daring to believe that the young master had returned home after such a long peculiar absence. Tom smiled weakly at the aging gardener who just gawped before realising this was the young master he was gaping at.

'Pardon me, my lord, not my place to stare,' Frank mumbled

'Are my parents in,' he asked timidly

'No young master, they are not. If I was you-'

'Well you aren't Frank,'

'Sorry young master, if I'm not too bold in saying so young master you gave your father a right fright-'Frank began

'Yes Frank, that was too bold, finish with the roses then come inside, I wish to have a cup of tea before my parents get home and I must ring poor Cecilia and explain why I have been gone for so long,' Tom snapped and walked swiftly into the house.

Frank returned to his roses, and stemmed the last few before putting them neatly in the terracotta pots buried in the flower beds. Finishing up quickly, Frank tried to imagine how nice it would be now that Master Tom was back but somehow he could not see it being any different as to the last time he was here. He hadn't changed one tiny bit and Frank felt even more bitter than usual as he walked up to the house to once again wait hand and foot on his young master.


End file.
